


Through Eyes of Flowers and Autumn

by Kitashi



Series: Through Eyes of Courts and Fate [17]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: End of ACOMAF, F/M, Mate Bond Discovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 09:14:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7634578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitashi/pseuds/Kitashi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chapters 65-69 plus some extra of A Court of Mist and Fury from Elain and Lucien's POV.</p><p>Elain and Nesta were stolen from their beds to make their sister suffer, to prove a myth true.</p><p>Lucien has been dragged along with his High Lord's inability to accept that his beloved has left for good, and is suffering the consequences.</p><p>But fate works in mysterious ways, and sometimes it is the worst circumstances that bring two people together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through Eyes of Flowers and Autumn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sv_you_know_who_I_am](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sv_you_know_who_I_am/gifts).



> HELLO... IT'S ME. *starts blasting Adele*
> 
> Just kidding lol
> 
> ANYWAYS!
> 
> I come bearing a gift of a fic that ISN'T RHYSAND O.O
> 
> I'm shocked too, trust me. Though there are more Rhys fics coming, promise!
> 
> This is a gift for one of the biggest Elucien fans I know, SarahViehmann. You gave us the wonderful gift of ACOWAS, all those awesome one shots, and just been so sweet to talk to on Tumblr, so I wanted to give you something in return as a thank you. I hope I did the smol ginger son and plant princess justice! They were a joy to write, and I want to write more for them sometime :)
> 
> As always, THIS CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS FOR BOTH BOOKS, but ESPECIALLY FOR BOOK 2's ENDING.
> 
> Enjoy!

We had been in a dark, dank cell for the past… honestly, I couldn't even remember how long it had been. Time had no meaning after a certain point.

We’d literally been taken from our beds, by monsters that would give me nightmares for the rest of my days. Nesta had fought them, kicking and screaming, until she saw me; a knife against my throat, bound and gagged and sobbing. Only then did she go quietly, albeit reluctantly.

We had been spirited away in the night, beyond the Wall. I wondered if Graysen or his family had come looking for us. But outside of sporadic meals of questionable origin, we rarely, if ever, saw _anyone_.

Suddenly a loud clang echoed through the halls of our prison. Footsteps came ever closer, louder. I looked at Nesta. She had since given up trying to free herself from her chains, knowing she needed to save her strength. But I could see her look meaningfully at me, trying to convey some sort of escape plan I didn't understand.

“Time to make yourselves useful,” a gruff voice said from the other side of the metal door.

The door swung open, and armed guards entered our tiny cell. I was hauled up by my arm and unchained from the wall, only to have them bind my wrists together again with rope. I could feel my eyes filling with tears; apparently, I wasn't out of them yet. Another guard shoved a gag in my mouth, a piece of cloth that had come from who knows where. I could hear Nesta fighting behind me, but I knew there was no chance for either of us to escape.

“Get moving,” the guard said. He shoved me forward, almost sending me to the floor. I could hear Nesta's angry screeching, muffled by her own gag, from behind me. But there was nothing we could do except go with them.

We were led through the dark halls, the path so winding I couldn't make sense of where we were going or where we had come from. I was starting to believe they were doing this on purpose. Eventually, the halls became less dilapidated, and we were led into a small antechamber.

Four of the queens, those horrible women who had treated us with such dismissal and scorn, stood in the room before us, surrounded by their guards. Nesta lunged at them with a snarl, but was held back by her bonds. The eldest queen clicked her tongue in disapproval.

“Such manners.” She turned away from us to her sisters. “But then what else should we expect from such backwater rabble. Let us go. The King summons us.” The women moved towards a doorway across the room from us. Nesta and I were shoved forward, though Nesta's angry glare did nothing. We followed them into what seemed to be a large room, filled with people… no, filled with High Fae.

Feyre and her friends from the Night Court stood across the room; pain creased Azriel’s face, anger and worry on Cassian's and Morrigan’s. Rhysand held Feyre close, who looked horrified to see us. The blonde faerie lord who had taken her from us in the first place stood closer to us, wicked looking knives strapped to his chest. I almost didn't recognize him without the mask he’d worn; his hair was shorter, his face thinner. A crimson haired man with a golden metal eye and scars on his face stood with him, a sword strapped at his side.

“You will find, Feyre Archeron, that it is in your best interest to behave.” The speaker was an handsome, but evil looking man who sat on a throne that looked like bones. Probably the king the queens had mentioned. Next to him stood a scary looking man that looked like he was about to snap and kill us all at any moment, his mumbling and quiet laughter disconcerting. I could hear the man on the throne talking to Feyre, but I heard none of it.

Feyre looked like her world had come crashing down around her as she looked at us, at our dirty and torn nightgowns and our bonds. She was armed to the hilt with every imaginable sharp object strapped to her person, more warrior than the huntress that kept us from starving all those years. I couldn't help but wonder what had happened since we’d last seen her.

“Such impressive attempts to infiltrate their sacred palace, Shadowsinger,” the king said, looking in the direction of Azriel, who was being held up by Cassian, the one Nesta always claimed she despised. “And utter proof to their Majesties, of course, that your court is not as benevolent as you seem.”

Liar,” Feyre hissed, and whirled on the queens, taking a small step toward them, but staying close to Rhysand. “They are _liars_ , and if you do not let my sisters go, I will _slaughter_ -”

“Do you hear the threats, the language they use in the Night Court? Slaughter, ultimatums… They wish to end life. I desire to give it.”

“You're a fool,” Rhysand said. He was staring at the queens.

“Is she?” the king asked. “Why submit to old age and ailments when what I offer is so much better? Eternal youth. Do you deny the benefits? A mortal queen becomes one who might reign forever. Of course, there are risks—the transition can be… difficult. But a strong-willed individual could survive.”

“Show us,” the ancient queen spoke. “Demonstrate it can be done, that it is safe.”

The king nodded. “Why did you think I asked my dear friend Ianthe to see who Feyre Archeron would appreciate having with her for eternity?” Feyre’s head turned to the queens. “Oh, I asked them first. They deemed it too… uncouth to betray two young, misguided women. Ianthe had no such qualms. Consider it my wedding present for you both,” he added.

~~

“What?” Tamlin seemed genuinely confused.

The king cocked his head, savoring every word. “I think the High Priestess was waiting until your return to tell you, but didn’t you ever ask why she believed I might be able to break the bargain? Why she had so many musings on the idea? So many millennia have the High Priestesses been forced to their knees for the High Lords. And during those years she dwelled in that foreign court... such an open mind, she has. Once we met, once I painted for her a portrait of a Prythian free of High Lords, where the High Priestesses might rule with grace and wisdom… she didn’t take much convincing.”

“Ianthe… She sold out Feyre's sisters to you.” I could hear a roaring in my ears, and I felt nauseous. I had always hated that shrill voiced, high maintenance harpy masquerading as a High Priestess, but this… this was lower than I’d ever thought she'd go. Out of the corner of my eye, I could tell Tamlin looked ill too.

I felt some satisfaction at the look on his face, despite the situation. He’d been double-crossed, and though I hated to admit it, we’d been outmaneuvered. Ianthe had played us both. She’d used Tamlin and his single minded focus of getting Feyre back, and convinced me she was conniving, but harmless. And now, because Tamlin couldn't accept Feyre's answer, we were both tied in a bargain with the King of Hybern; I was included as an extension of being his emissary and a member of his court. It was almost starting to feel like Amarantha all over again.

“Sold out?” The king snorted. “Or saved from the shackles of mortal death? Ianthe suggested they were both strong-willed women, like their sister. No doubt they’ll survive. And prove to the queens it _can_ be done. If one has the strength.”

“ _Don't you-_ ” Feyre started.

The king cut her off. “I would suggest bracing yourselves.”

And then hell exploded in the hall.

Power barreled into everyone, nearly knocking us down. I heard a shout of pain and suddenly an earsplitting scream.

As my vision cleared, I could see the source of the scream.

Rhysand’s general. His wings, shredded under the magic the king had just blasted directly at them, as he had tried to protect the shadowsinger. I felt nauseous looking at the blood gushing from what was left of his wings.

Rhysand began to move, as though he would be able to stop the king all on his own, but another blast of power sent him to his knees.

Suddenly, Feyre's sisters were shrieking over their gags. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tamlin running towards Feyre's unprotected right side. He was going to try to get her out of here. She hurtled a knife at him, and he had to dive to dodge it. He backed away as she pulled out a second one, gaping at her. I couldn't help but be impressed. She had learned much since her first weeks at the Spring Court.

The blonde woman hurtled for the king with a cry of pure wrath. With deadly grace, she dodged a blast of power that the king sent straight towards her, only to stop short at a cry of pain from the shadowsinger. Stopped a foot from the throne. She dropped her knife. The king rose from his throne.

“What a mighty queen you are,” he said to her. She backed away in horror. Step by step.

“What a prize,” he said. The shadowsinger, sprawled on the floor in his and the general’s blood, lifted his head.

 _“Don't you touch her.”_ His voice was laced with pain, but he looked murderous despite it. She looked back at him, and moved towards him, and covered his wound with her hand. He let out a hiss, but covered her hand with his own.

~~

Rhysand moved between Feyre and the king as she ripped at the leather covering her arm, as though there was something she could do.

“Put the prettier one in first,” the king said suddenly. The guards picked me up. I tried to fight, but I was no Nesta. I was shaking like a leaf as they dragged me to the Cauldron, my vision blurred by my tears as I begged through my gag for someone, anyone to save me.

“Please refrain,” the king said, “from getting any stupid ideas, Rhysand. If any of you interfere, the shadowsinger dies. Pity about the other brute’s wings.” He gave us a mocking bow. “Ladies, eternity awaits. Prove to their Majesties the Cauldron is safe for… strong-willed individuals.”

“Stop,” the blonde Lord ordered.

The king ignored him.

“Stop this.” The crimson haired man from before. His voice sounded more serious. I could hear Nesta bellowing through her gag at the guards. No matter how much I tried to resist, I was too weak against their fae strength. As we came closer, the Cauldron filled with liquid to the brim.

“This was not part of our deal. _Stop this now_ ,” the blonde Lord ordered again. I was close enough that I could see the king’s face, the malice and triumph in his black eyes. He grinned at me.

“I don't care.”

I could hear a struggle going on behind me, but I was focused on trying to stay out of that water. The two guards who had been dragging me hoisted me up. I kicked, my tears coming hot and fast. I tried to knock it over, but it seemed bolted to the floor; it didn't budge.

“ _That is enough_.” The crimson haired man again. I heard the king’s power surge again, and I dared to look back.

The two men were lashed to the floor, fighting bonds of light that held them fast. The crimson haired man looked horrified, his single eye wide as he looked between the Cauldron and I.

“Please,” I heard Feyre beg. “Please, I will do anything, I will give you anything. Please- you do not need proof, I am proof that it works. Jurian is proof it is safe.”

The ancient queen, the bitter old hag who had treated us so poorly in our own house spoke. “You are a thief and a liar. You conspired with our sister. Your punishment should be the same as hers. Consider this a gift instead.”

My foot hit the water, and I let out a scream despite the gag. It felt _wrong_. Before I could even begin to make an attempt to fight back, I’d been shoved completely under.

I could hear nothing in the water, if it could even be called that. It was of a silken consistency that was both scalding and freezing all at the same time, but it made my movements so slow that I couldn't move easily. It was deeper than I would have imagined, but I’d learned since Feyre had been taken away that magic could do things beyond my ability to understand. I couldn't breathe, but I also couldn't figure out which way was up or down. I was going to drown in here if I didn't find my way out soon.

I had to get out.

I had to save Nesta, save Feyre. Especially Feyre. She had sacrificed so much for us. I couldn't die without repaying our debt to her.

And Nesta…

I couldn't leave her alone. With Father gone all the time, and Feyre now High Fae, we were all each other had.

For them. I would get out of this for them.

Suddenly, I felt my world turn on its side. I tried to scream, but I just got more liquid in my mouth despite the gag.

I hit something hard and flat as suddenly I had air to breathe, my burning lungs grateful as I coughed up the liquid. I got up on my elbows and looked straight at Feyre.

I heard Nesta roaring behind me as Feyre looked at me, stunned. I heard one of the queens gasp.

“So we can survive.”

Feyre fell to her knees sobbing. What had happened? I couldn't figure it out. I was shivering, my clothes soaked through from whatever that liquid was. I heard some of the guards snickering.

Someone snarled. “ _Don't just leave her on the damned floor-”_

There was a flash of light in the corner of my eye. I heard someone moving towards me quickly. I looked up to see the crimson haired man, his face creased with worry.

Suddenly he was kneeling next to me, taking off his jacket. I cringed away from it, from him, but still he put it over my shoulders. Covering me.

I looked down at my hands. Except they didn't look like my hands.

~~

I looked at the poor shivering girl in front of me, covered in my jacket, my rage building at the King of Hybern, at his guards…

They didn't deserve this. I had told Tamlin from the start that Ianthe couldn't be trusted, especially after meeting Feyre and Rhysand in the Illyrian Steppes. Not that he had cared.

I could hear Feyre's other sister fighting like a wildcat as they dragged her to the Cauldron. I felt nauseous as I thought that this was because of _us_. Ianthe may have been the one to start it, but whether Tamlin acknowledged it or not, it was our fault that this was even happening.

The girl in front of me was on her hands and knees, looking at her hands in horrified wonder, her hair in dripping strings around her face. I noticed she wore an iron ring on her finger… an engagement ring from the looks of it. If the giver had picked that metal for the stupid reason I thought they had, the wedding wouldn't be taking place anymore. She looked at Feyre, and for the first time, I really saw her face.

She was stunning, even in her sopping wet state. The Cauldron had enhanced her beauty to that of a High Fae, but she had to have already been beautiful as a human. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the Cauldron tipping over, its waters threatening to wash over her again.

Despite her slight resistance, I hoisted her out of the way before she was soaked again. I didn't have another jacket to give her, though at this point I was contemplating giving her the shirt off my back if it allowed her some shred of modesty and protection from those guards.

Feyre's other sister lay on the stones, but unlike her sister, the Cauldron had Made her features sharper, lethal; still beautiful, but the look in her eyes was murderous. Her face crumpled into horror and shock. Understanding what had just happened. What she had become.

She was on her feet before I could blink, her speed fast even for a Fae. And she was headed right towards me.

“ _Get off her!”_

She slammed into me, grabbing her sister out my arms, and knocking me to the ground.

She was strong. I could hear her weeping and raging. _“Elain, Elain, Elain,”_ she sobbed, falling to her knees.

Elain. So that was her name. That had to make the other sister Nesta. I managed to get myself up into a sitting position.

Nesta was holding Elain in her arms, running her hands over her face, her shoulders, her hair, unable to contain her sobs.

But over Nesta’s shoulder, Elain was staring at me.

Beautiful, dark brown eyes. Beautiful dark brown eyes that I couldn't look away from, and I had no desire to look away from ever again.

Suddenly, I had a tight feeling in my chest. And looking in her eyes, I felt more at home than I had ever felt in either the Autumn or Spring Courts.

If I hadn't known better, I could have sworn I heard a click, like the gears of a lock falling into place.

I felt my hands slacken at my sides. There was no way this could be, and yet...

“You're my mate,” I whispered.

~~

Nesta whirled around, practically dropping me as she stalked up to him and shoved him.

_“She is no such thing.”_

He didn't move an inch. His face was pale as he continued to stare at me, the look in his one russet eye stunned. I didn't know how to answer, but at the same time, I couldn't look away.

How could this be though? As a human-

I wasn't human anymore.

I could see my iron engagement ring glinting dully on my finger. A useless piece of metal, just like Feyre had said.

“Interesting. So very interesting,” the king murmured from his throne. “See, I showed you not once, but twice that it is safe. Who should like to be Made first? Maybe you’ll get a handsome Fae lord as your mate, too.”

He was a lord? He was handsome in his own way, most certainly… I couldn't help but wonder how he had gotten that scar, and lost his eye. But at the same time, I was terrified. I knew nothing about this man, and he was supposed to be destined for me? I was supposed to be for him?

“If you're so willing to hand out bargains,” Rhysand said suddenly, drawing me out of my thoughts, “perhaps I’ll make one with you.” He held Feyre next to him, like both of their lives depended on it. Honestly, it probably did.

“Oh?” The king seemed interested. Rhysand shrugged nonchalantly. I wanted to scream at him, to warn him not to. Feyre looked lost. I wanted to weep for her, but I was finally out of tears.

Feyre suddenly dropped to her knees in a spasm, sobbing, pulling at her hair, gnashing her teeth. Rhysand reached for her, trying to figure out what they were doing to her. The panic in his eyes was real. A burst of blinding light filled the room.

As the light faded, she was curled in a ball on the floor, her head in her hands. She slowly unfurled her body, looking confused. She focused her eyes across the room.

“Tamlin?” she breathed.

~~

“Tamlin?” Feyre asked again.

I stared at her dumbfounded. It was so quiet you could hear blood dripping onto the ground.

What. The. Hell.

She peered at her bloodstained hands, and looked at each of the Night Court in turn. When she got to Rhysand though, she looked horrified and scrambled away from him.

“Tamlin… where-” she faced Rhysand again. “What did you do to me?” She backed towards Tamlin. _“What did you do?”_ Her voice guttural, low. Betrayed.

Rhysand shoved his hands in his pockets. “How did you break free?” he purred.

I narrowed my eyes at him. Bullshit. This was complete bullshit.

What?” Jurian seethed, pushing off the wall where he has been watching everything with amusement, storming towards Feyre and Tamlin.

She turned towards Tamlin, who was watching her warily. “Don't let him take me again, don't let him- don't-” Feyre let out shuddering sobs.

“Feyre,” Tamlin said softly. I couldn't believe he was buying this. She sobbed harder.

“Don't let him take me,” she sobbed again. “I don't want to go back.”

“What did you do to that girl?” The blonde woman spat at Rhysand as she helped the general stand upright. She seemed genuinely angry and horrified.

Rhysand cocked his head, taking Feyre in. “How’d you do it, Feyre?” If this was actually true, I was asking the same question.

The hag queens made a wall between us. Tamlin watched Feyre carefully as she shook her head. I did too. There was something very off about this.

But then she said, “Break the bond.”

Rhysand froze. What the-

She stormed over to the king, dropping to her knees in front of his throne.

“Break the bond. The bargain, the- the mating bond. He- he made me do it, made me swear it-”

“No,” Rhysand said. His voice sounded panicked. I knew he was an excellent actor, but this expression of fear… there was no faking that.

“Do it,” she begged the king. “I know you can. Just- free me. Free me from it.”

~~

 _“No,”_ Rhysand said again. I watched as the blonde lord looked between them. I couldn't believe that Feyre was doing this. She wasn't under anyone's control when we had bargained with the queens. I knew she wasn't. So why would she-

“No more. No more death - no more killing.” She sobbed through clenched teeth. She looked at Nesta and I. _“No more._ Take me _home_ and let them go. But no more- please.”

She looked at the Night Court again, looking broken as the words left her lips. “No more,” she said, turning back to the blonde lord. “Take me home.”

The blonde lord turned to the king. “Let them go, break her bond, and let's be done with it. Her sisters come with us. You’ve already crossed too many lines.” The idea that we were to go with them scared me, but if Feyre was there, maybe we’d be all right.

The insane looking man began to object, but the king said, “Very well.”

“No,” Rhysand begged. My heart broke at the pain in his voice.

The blonde lord snarled at him. “I don't give a _shit_ if she's your mate. I don't give a shit if you think you're entitled to her. She is _mine_ \- and one day, I'm going to repay every bit of pain she felt, every bit of suffering and despair. One day, perhaps when she decides she wants to end you, I’ll be happy to oblige her.”

But Rhysand didn't look away from her. “Don't.”

But she backed away - until she hit the blonde lord’s chest, until his hands moved to her shoulders. “Do it,” he said to the king.

“No,” Rhysand said again, his voice breaking.

But the king pointed at Feyre. And she screamed.

The blonde lord gripped her arms as she thrashed in pain, her screaming endless, bloodcurdling. Rhysand fell to the ground, roaring, Feyre's name leaving his lips. Morrigan grabbed his jacket collar, trying to anchor him. Suddenly, Feyre stopped screaming.

She’d fainted.

Rhysand panted, looking like his world had cleaved in two. The king looked smug. The ones that interested me most though, were the reactions of the blonde and crimson haired lords.

The blonde lord held her, but… there was no love. No worry if she was all right, no gentleness… Nothing.

The crimson haired lord though… he looked apprehensive. Worried.

Feyre began to stir.

Without a word, the blonde lord ripped the glove off of her left hand.

~~

Blank skin. The bargain… Their _bond_ was broken. I couldn't believe he’d done it.

And yet, I didn't feel happy.

If he could do that to Feyre and Rhysand… who else could he do this to? This was a power _no one_ should have.

I watched Rhysand crawl back towards his friends - _crawl._ I’d never seen him like this. The king merely waved a hand at them. “You're free to go, Rhysand. Your friend’s poison is gone. The wings of the other, I'm afraid, are a bit of a mess.”

Rhysand managed to haul himself up, and all of them stared at us. Covered in blood, enraged. I felt deep down we were making a mistake, letting them go free.

Suddenly, the blonde woman winnowed.

Right in front of me.

She slammed me back with a palm to my chest, knocking me down. I let out a roar that shook the halls as I felt Elain’s, _my mate’s_ , presence vanish.

I could hear the king spewing his wrath at the guards, at Jurian, for not grabbing Feyre's sisters. But I felt such a hole in my chest that hadn't been there before, and it was driving me _crazy._

 _“Get her back,”_ I snarled at Tamlin. After all I’d done for him, after all we went through to get Feyre back, surely-

He ignored me. He _ignored me._

“Thank you,” Feyre breathed to the king. “Thank you.”

He didn't acknowledge her, merely looking at the human queens, who had moved away in the chaos. “Begin.”

The women moved towards the Cauldron like wolves, their smiles growing as they circled it, one snapping when another pushed her. Harpies, just like Ianthe. I hoped they regretted their decision.

Jurian stalked over to me amidst their bickering, laughing under his breath like the crazed lunatic he was. “Do you know what Illyrian bastards do to pretty females? You won't have a mate left - at least, not one that is useful to you in any way.”

I growled at him, wanting nothing more than to rip his throat out with my bare hands.

Suddenly, someone spat at his feet. Feyre.

“You can go to hell, you hideous prick.”

I spun towards her, my metal eye whirring and narrowing.

She no longer sounded scared. She wasn't panicking at her sisters being taken. She sounded like the Feyre I’d run into in the Illyrian Steppes. And suddenly, the pieces started to fall into place.

“We will get her back,” she said quietly. But I couldn't help but watch her warily. She didn't reveal herself again though. “Take me home,” she said to Tamlin.

“Where is it?” The king’s voice sliced through the hall. Cold, brutal - nothing like the amused arrogance from before. “You - _you_ were to wield the Book of Breathings. I could feel it in here, with…”

The entire castle shuddered as he realized he’d been duped.

“Your mistake,” Feyre said simply. This only confirmed my suspicions.

The king’s nostrils flared, his face white with wrath. But he blinked, and it was gone. “When the Book is retrieved, I expect your presence here,” he said to Tamlin.

Tamlin said nothing, preparing to winnow us back to the Spring Court.

Feyre looked at them hard, cold as she watched the queens fight over the Cauldron. “I will light your pyres myself for what you did to my sisters.” I echoed the sentiment in my head.

And then we were gone.

~~

Mor had brought us to a little cabin in the mountains, every surface full of what were clearly Feyre's paintings. It was peaceful, and the cabin’s ability to know what you wanted almost before you did was almost too easy to get used to. I almost forgot at points what had happened to us… until I would look at Nesta, or catch a look at myself in the mirror. We were High Fae now, had become the stuff of our fears and nightmares.

We had different ways of coping. Nesta raged, breaking a few pieces of furniture in the bedroom she'd claimed in the process, and usually holed herself up in there. I felt numb most of the time, trying to process it all. Seeing Feyre's paintings made me miss her even more, wonder if she was all right. I’d found some packets of seeds in a drawer as I was exploring the cabin, and ventured outside to plant and take care of them. It helped to be outside, to be doing something _normal_ , even though with my new senses everything seemed different.

Rhysand came to visit us a few days after.

“You are free to do as you wish,” he said, “but as my mate’s sisters, know that you are safe here and I will do everything in my considerable power to make sure you are taken care of.”

“Taken care of?” Nesta seethed. “Just like you took care of us when we were stolen from our beds and turned into _this_ ?” She gestured to us both. “And I suppose letting Feyre go with that other lord is your way of ‘taking care of’ _her_?”

I could have sworn for a moment that I’d seen shadows gathering around his hands, and the shadowy outline of wings, but when I blinked, they had disappeared.

“Feyre is my mate, the most important thing in my entire existence,” he said coldly. “She chose to do this, for her court, as their High Lady, and to make sure her _family_ escaped. Do not think for a moment it did not cost me.” I knew from his tone that family he spoke of did not just mean us. Nesta scoffed, but didn't say anything else, stalking out of the room.

Rhysand ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh. He took a seat at the table, running his fingers over what looked to be paint splattered all over the table, seeming to be deep in thought.

That was a mate bond, I realized. I remembered the letter he had written to those callous queens. To care for someone so much, your own needs were no longer a priority… he loved her so much, I could feel his pain in the air. But he would not chain her, would not keep her from what she wanted to do, even if it hurt him to do so. He trusted her.

I placed a hand on his shoulder, and he flinched. He looked up at me. He looked much like he had when they had come to visit us at our home, but… his eyes. Despite his appearance, his violet eyes belied such heartache and sorrow.

“She will be okay,” I said with a conviction I didn't feel. “She will be okay, and we will get her back.” He nodded wordlessly before turning back to the paint splattered on the table. I could tell this conversation wasn't going to go any farther. I moved towards the hallway with my head down, unable to bring myself to look at the piercing painted eyes that crowned the entryway.

“Elain?” I turned back to Rhysand. He hadn't looked up from the table.

“Yes?”

“I’ve known Lucien for centuries; not always as friends. He… he has always looked out for Feyre, treated her as a friend. He's in a bad situation thanks to his High Lord. But Lucien is not Tamlin. I'm not saying you have to accept your bond. It is absolutely your choice and the bond goes nowhere unless you accept it. But... I think he would be good to you.”

I nodded wordlessly and turned back to the hall.

Trying not to trip, I moved down the hall. I knew it was just my getting used to this new body, but I rarely walked more than a few steps with at least a stumble. I was amazed at myself that I’d managed to walk fairly normal in front of Rhysand.

Finally reaching the door of the bedroom I’d claimed, I felt tired. Nesta had tried to convince me to share the room with her, to keep an eye on me, but I really just needed space of my own.

I sat on the bed, which was literally the softest thing I had ever sat on. I leaned back on my hands and stared up at the ceiling.

I felt the bite of my engagement ring on my finger, my hand at an angle that made it hurt. I sat up and looked at it.

Graysen had given me this ring. I’d looked at it a few times since we’d gotten here. But now… there was no chance of a future for us now. Not when his father would be leading a mob to kill me and my family. I took the ring off of my finger, and laid it on the bedside table.

That crimson haired man… Lucien.

He seemed kind enough. That he would cover me with his coat, trying to help me… I wondered what he could be like. Despite the scar and his metal eye, he didn't scare me. Rhysand seemed to not dislike him at least, which may not be a glowing endorsement, but still. Nesta though…

Nesta would never accept this.

But maybe she didn't have to.

I laid back, drifting away to thoughts of crimson hair and a piercing russet eye, and for the first time in weeks, my sleep was peaceful.

~~

We landed on the gravel of the front drive. “I thought I’d never see it again,” Feyre said as we escorted her to the manor. It was strange to have her back here. But I knew there was something wrong with this.

“I thought you would never, either.”

Hearing Feyre was Rhysand's mate made everything make perfect sense now. Why she didn't want to come with me, why she acted as she did now. Feyre was a fantastic actor, but even she hadn't been able to hide the genuine feelings she had for him, whether she knew it or not. The fire in her eyes after Tamlin discovered she was mated, when he ignored her threats… There was no mistaking it.

Feyre would never have let them get away with taking her sisters. Never would have let them go…

Unless she knew they were safe.

“It feels - feels as if some of it was a dream, or a nightmare. But… But I remembered you. And when I saw you there today, I started clawing at it, fighting, because I knew it might be my only chance, and-”

“How did you break free of his control,” I said flatly. Tamlin gave me a warning growl, but I didn't care.

Tamlin clearly wasn't suspicious of his beloved, but I couldn't help but wonder if Feyre had another purpose than just letting Rhysand and his cohorts escape.

“I wanted it - I don't know how. I just wanted to break free of him, so I did.” Shaky, but not a provable lie.

We stared each other down, neither of us giving an inch. Tamlin brushed a thumb over her shoulder, breaking her concentration. She flinched. “Are- are you hurt?”

“I- I don't know,” she stammered. “I don't remember those things.”

My metal eye narrowed. Convenient.

But she looked up at him, doe-eyed, and brushed her hand over his mouth. The hand no longer marred by the stark black curls of that tattoo. “You're real,” she said to him. “You freed me.”

“You freed yourself,” Tamlin breathed. The love blinded fool. “Rest - and then we'll talk. I… need to find Ianthe. And make some things, very, very clear.” Probably to explain that her time warming his bed was done.

“I want to be a part of it this time,” she said, halting as he tried to bring her through the front door. “No more… No more shutting me out. No more guards. Please. I have so much to tell you about them - bits and pieces, but… I can help. We can get my sisters back. Let me help.”

Feyre was no docile lady. This demure act was just that; an act. I could feel the mate bond driving me crazy. I’d only known Elain was my mate for less than an hour, and already I felt the need to go to her, to save her. If Feyre was Rhysand's mate, the separation had to be driving her mad too. I could maybe use it to my advantage.

I needed to find Elain. And I suspected Feyre knew _exactly_ where she was.

She would never let her sisters come to harm. I knew I could count on that at least, which was a small comfort.

Tamlin scanned her face and nodded. “We’ll start over. Do things differently. When you were gone I realized… I’d been wrong. So wrong, Feyre. And I’m sorry.”

He was _sorry_ . I wish he’d be sorry for how he treated _me_ . For not protecting _my_ mate as she was stolen from me.

Feyre rested her head on his arm as he slipped it around her and led her toward the house. “It doesn't matter. I'm home now.”

“Forever,” he promised.

“Forever,” she echoed, as she glanced behind to look at me. I glared at her. I knew she was lying. But I couldn't prove it. Tamlin would kill me for even breathing a negative word about his beloved. Feyre gave me a sweet, sleepy smile. Sweet as poison.

As I followed them into the manor, I was suddenly hit with a vision. A dainty hand with a metal ring.

An _iron_ ring.

I clung to the vision like a drowning man to wreckage. This was Elain. _This_ was my mate.

I knew she probably had no idea that it had been sent to me. A sickening feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. She had been Made against her will. She probably didn't even want this, didn't want anything to do with _me_.

I looked at Feyre's retreating back as she climbed the stairs to her room; Tamlin had already left her side. Nothing had changed.

I would not be Tamlin. I would not pine over someone who didn't want me.

But I would like to see her again.

And so I would play Feyre's game.

If only to see Elain again.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you thought! All comments and suggestions are welcome, & if you have a POV/scene you would really like to see, please let me know! Thank you for reading!
> 
> Also, I have a writing Tumblr! If anyone is interested in talking & discussing ACOTAR, ACOMAF, or giving suggestions/asking questions, I can be found at _<http://kitashiwrites.tumblr.com>_.
> 
> Hope to see you there!


End file.
